


Her Laughter

by shyfoxling



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Anal Sex, Bondage, Dark, Horror, M/M, Masturbation, Other, Torture, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-01-06
Updated: 2009-01-06
Packaged: 2017-10-14 16:43:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 976
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/151346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/shyfoxling/pseuds/shyfoxling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>He could almost have stood the abuse, but for one thing...</p>
            </blockquote>





	Her Laughter

**Author's Note:**

> **Warnings/contains:** Non-con, torture, nasty language, grisly bloody imagery. I don't think it's lose-your-lunch graphic, but YMMV. This is definitely not presented for anyone's titillation. If you like it that way, please don't tell me about it.

The worst part wasn't the magical ropes around his wrists, nor the skin rubbed raw they left behind. It wasn't the stiff leather collar they forced around his throat. It wasn't the cold stone he knelt on ( _at least it's smooth_ ). It wasn't the unremarkable cock Rabastan shoved up his arse – he'd had similar before from Mallory's little gang, although it was true in that case that he'd at least made the deal himself ( _I had to; I had to protect him_ ).

It wasn't the way Ra _bastard_ groaned his enjoyment while he fucked Severus slowly so as not to disturb Bellatrix's aim with the knife. It wasn't the thing itself, that strangely silvery blade, the tip pressing into the hollow under his jaw, making shameful primal fear well up that this time maybe they really were going to slit his throat and have done with it ( _they'd probably still fuck me afterwards_ ).

It wasn't the long, curving slices they drew in the skin on his back, going over old scars and new ones alike, until he could feel rivulets of blood. It wasn't the way they dragged the knife down over the backs of his thighs, cuts, more cuts, and ( _oh God no no no not there_ ) the knife tip scratching over and around his bollocks and anus and they never cut him there but he was always so terrified and ashamed to be so.

It wasn't even the _Preverbalus_ Bellatrix cast on him with an unnecessary jab of her wand into his throat, which rendered him incapable of speech but perfectly able to cry, scream, and howl. He did his best not to give them the satisfaction, to keep it down to whimpers and grunts, to "go away" into the secret veiled places in his mind, but though he was well advanced in this by any standard, he was still not fully up to the grueling task. ( _Merlin, it hurts – and I'm so scared – and angry – and – and why...!_ )

No.

The worst part was her _laughter_ – Bellatrix's terrible, high, screeching, tittering laughter. It was like knitting needles made of ice being driven into both his ears and straight out the other side. When she laughed, he became furious. He wanted to cut out her tongue with that horrible knife, slice it down the middle, tie the two halves into a knot and jam it back down her throat with Rabastan's severed prick.

He couldn't speak, but he thought as loudly as he could for her benefit: _Dolph not have enough stomach for this to satisfy you, eh? You twisted nightmare harpy, getting off like this with his brother! You bitch, you devil cunt, you maggot-demon's whore!_

She only laughed more and louder, and Severus wondered if she'd really heard him. Behind him he heard the wet sounds of their kissing, and then a rustle of fabric as Bellatrix sat somewhere behind him. He grimaced and shut his eyes against the revolting image of her hiking up her skirts and pleasuring herself ( _ugh, I'm going to be ill_ ) while watching the gruesome display before her. How he hungered to thrust that cursed knife straight up from her cunt to her gut!

Rabastan gave no cry, but a warm slimy feeling in Severus's arse told him he had finished. Pathetic; it had burned, of course, for they never used any lubricant beyond what was necessary to make the act possible without injuring his assailant, but in comparison to some other occasions, it quite paled. ( _Why, it's almost as if your heart wasn't even in it..._ )

There was the slap of a hand on skin, and Rabastan said "Hey!" in an affronted tone of voice. As he shifted aside, pulling his softening cock out of Severus's arse, the thin trail of semen it drew with it stung in his open cuts.

Then, without warning, Bellatrix's fingers with their long, sharp nails were pushed inside him, and this time he did shout in surprise and pain as bleeding scratches surely opened along his inner walls. She made a disgusting satisfied _mmm_ ing noise as she worked her fingers around, then smeared the resulting plunder into his hair and once more laughed her awful, shattering laugh.

Severus hated himself for the flame he felt rising in his cheeks at the insult and twisted in his bonds, making pinkish fluid ooze from under the rope. He wanted to tear it from its fixed point on the wall and garrote them both, back to back, pulling until the hideous laughter stopped.

Bellatrix tugged his head up by the collar and kissed him on the cheek, mockingly sweet, before she released him and removed the thing. Severus gulped in a rush of air, unaware until now that it had been restricting him that much. He collapsed in a bony pile of exhaustion, throwing his arms wretchedly over the back of his head and neck ( _just go, go away, oh God, just stop looking at me, I don't want anyone to see_ ) as he bent his forehead to the floor in front of his knees. For all his ferocious thoughts, he knew there was nothing he could do to them in this state without his wand. It was best to provide them no further struggling entertainment, because then they would soon leave and take her terrible laughter with them.

"Thank you for a _lovely_ time, Sev," Bellatrix crooned, drawing out the single syllable of his name into a foul utterance as dark as any evil curse.

And then he was alone.

Someday, he swore, _someday_ he would steal her voice like the sea-witch had the little mermaid's. He could place it carefully in a seashell, then hurl it off some oceanside cliff to smash upon the salty rocks below, and he would never. Hear it. Again.

( _The worst... the worst is her laughter..._ )


End file.
